


Broken Faith

by Sister of Fierce Love (fluffywolfsister)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Dark Knight Questline (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers, Guilt, Internal Conflict, One Shot, Other, Self-Acceptance, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffywolfsister/pseuds/Sister%20of%20Fierce%20Love
Summary: When a blood-soaked, injured Dark Knight has committed acts of savagery even her own darkside cannot comprehend, what then becomes Their Answer? Sometimes the charade has been over since the day the sword was lifted, and neither of them could accept it.
Relationships: Fray Myste/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Broken Faith

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic for FF14, and one created closely for a specific OC whose story may be explored further. Also my first public submission of any sort of creative writing, so any kind of feedback is wonderful. Thank you for reading.

The wind howled over the snowy dunes, kicking up stinging winds of biting frost and blinding snow. The flat, bare expanse of a snowfield stretched out for what seemed like malms, the distant shadow of a great city visible on the cloud-stricken horizon. Blotched, ugly red patches stained the immaculate white surface, telltale footprints and puddles betraying a larger scene that spanned over the entire field’s length and breadth. There were no creatures here, having been scared away long ago by the monstrous behemoth that now lay caked in ice atop a hill above for decades. This was Coerthas, long kept vigil over by the loyal Knights of Ishgard, but even they did not know what had transpired here on this day.

A girl knelt alone in the snow. Shoulders slumped forward, pretty hair blowing in the wind, and head towards the ground, gazing down at her hands. Her armor, black as night, spiked to instill fear, and glazed red for chaos, was chipped and worn, battle scars all too evident along its sturdy length. A horned helmet was cast aside, just inches from her kneeling place, a streak of blood down a single eye socket visible on the visage. Her face, normally dainty and perfect, ran purple with makeup, blurred and streaked by tears that carefully dripped down her cheeks, flushed from the cold. K’lenni Nyana drew in a labored breath, exhaling shakily accompanied by a strangled sob, casting her eyes down to her trembling hands, and the greatsword that lay planted as a flag in the snow in front of her. 

Each messy patch of sticky, wet blood that stained the snow was accompanied by a body. Some close to the patches, others a distance away, having made attempts to stumble to freedom before collapsing from their wounds. The bloody footprints dotted across the field displayed this. The girl looked around slowly, at the scene of carnage, at the display of utter brutality and cruelty. Her memory was hazy, fragmented. What she did know was that she was responsible. Each body scattered across the landscape had died at her hand, some literally, as she plunged a spiked gauntlet through their torsos, emerging out their front covered in blood and viscera. She did not know who they were. They all wore masks that concealed their faces, though their hair and body shape determined their classification. Her greatsword yet dripped with blood. She struggled to her feet, taking it by the handle and carrying it with ease with a single hand, as she began to walk. 

She stopped at each body. She kicked off each assailant’s mask and plunged the edge of her blade into each face, mangling them beyond any possible recognition. Each of the forty odd bodies received the same treatment, her movements slow and deliberate. After her rounds had completed, she stumbled once again to her knees, digging her blade into the snow to keep from collapsing completely with a hand on its grip. She shook her head slowly, forcing herself to remember each face of the ones she had ended, burning them into her mind. At this, a gate formed from blackblood coalesced behind her, and a figure emerged, her own mirror, clad in the same armor, with the same blade plunged into the snow. But to the outside viewer, it would have appeared that she was yet alone. The newcomer looked down at the snow, almost in disbelief, perhaps in fear, or apprehension. K’lenni Nyana, or formerly known as Fray by some, began whispering to her only friend in the world, the one not beckoned by blackblood, the one who had caused so much suffering.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I appeared from that void, onto the blood-soaked snow, the recollections flooded into my mind. A quick, savage battle, if it could even be called that. It was more like the attackers were culled. Their faces mutilated, some with missing chunks of flesh, heads, limbs… I took in the scene. Never in my pursuit of justice had I seen such cruelty perpetrated by my supposedly better half. As the memories came into true form, my stomach twisted and knotted as I realized the truth of what had happened here. The attackers were guilty, yes, but only by a fraction. This was the furthest stretch of “justice” I had ever comprehended in my years with K’lenni. To think her capable of such savagery, such suffering… I sighed a shaky breath.  
“When you gave us our answer, I thought you didn’t want me to take the reigns. And I’ve kept my word. Loyally. You know I have.”

Silence from K’lenni.  
“Listen to me! What have you done? Our end was not to be here. Yet you fought like it was.”  
K’lenni loosed a shaky breath through gritted teeth. And she spoke, hoarse yet controlled.  
“‘Today shall not be the day, and you shall not be the judge.’ You spoke thusly to me all that time ago. And so I say to you. You shall not be my judge.”  
“This was a perversion-“  
“Listen! Please, please, listen…” came her answer through strangled sobs. “You… have been the only one I’ve ever cherished. I still do. I do… and I’ll never stop. You, who have given me my strength. My answer. My fortitude. My partner, in more ways than one. I have but one request of you: please, I beg you, do not try and stop me. This path… I walk it now, whether the blood follows, I leave to you. My charade ended long ago, yet I had not the strength to tell you. And that has been my undoing.”  
I faltered at this. I was the one, I was her true self, I was the manifestation of her desire for freedom, but to see this, and hear those words… I could not bear it. I knew I could not fight this, like I could not fight her. My voice grew softer, more pleading, sorrowful.  
“I… if you promise me… you won’t forget me…? You know I can’t live without you, don’t you..?”  
“…”  
“K’lenni…?”  
A long silence followed. She gave no answer in speech. She rose shakily to her feet, leaving her blade planted hilt up in the snow, and turned to face me. Tears streaked her lovely face, and her lips quivered, the purple of her makeup running in lines down her cheeks. 

She faced me for the first time in years. Before I could raise my own worried head to hers, she stepped towards me, extended her arms and wrapped them around me in a tight embrace, the silence punctuated by quiet sobs she made as she held me to her. I was shocked, but welcoming. I returned her gesture, and we stood, in the freezing snow, for what felt like hours. 

She broke it, and stepped back. I watched her warmly, my sorrow masked by adoration and longing, pain that I would not see her again. She raised her arms slowly, gently grasping the sides of my face with her gauntleted hands, and placed her forehead against mine, such as we had done in communion all those times before.  
“Listen to our voice. Listen to our heartbeat. Listen… listen…”  
And as my body began to fade, back to the confines of her soul, she brought her lips to mine, closed her tearful eyes, and kissed me with the softest, gentlest kiss. I could do nothing but stand, frozen, as I fully faded away, my last sight of the world her quivering, half-smiling, beautiful face.

The girl stumbled away from the blood-soaked, snowy field, the ghost of a smile upon her lips. 

She plunged her blade into the snow with each heavy step, as if her burden weighed heavy on her even now.  
She gazed skyward, as if looking inside herself, and mumbled three words, for her and herself alone to hear.

“I love you.”


End file.
